


Death's Guardian

by whitedandelions



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hufflepuff Harry Potter, Hufflepuff Tom Riddle, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Time Travel, canonical child abuse mentioned in first chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24930823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitedandelions/pseuds/whitedandelions
Summary: Before Tom Riddle can create his first horcrux, Death finds him and sends him to another universe where Tom is forced to protect Harry Potter, the future Master of Death, from Voldemort.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 51
Kudos: 287





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to rewrite my story an Unlikely Guardian! I may go back to it one day, but I actually ended up wanting it to start from when they were younger. This will be a long fic (Hogwarts years) with slowburn. I’ll try to update on Fridays, either weekly or biweekly depending on my schedule.

At first, Tom was sure he was dreaming. There was no other explanation for the fear that threatened to overwhelm him and the frankly terrifying amount of magical power that was keeping him suppressed and on his knees.

But the sheer effort it took to even breathe convinced him that he wasn’t dreaming. He racked his brain to find out just how exactly he had ended up here; with his position at Hogwarts, there was no possibility that someone in Hogwarts could have him here against his will. The last he remembered was falling asleep in his bed at Hogwarts…

Before he could think further on it, a voice sighed above him. It was raspy and reedy and it made Tom’s blood go cold. Something about it was just plain wrong and it hurt his head to listen to it.

“You’re terrified,” it said, almost sounding amused. “Your greatest fear is Death.”

“Isn’t everyone’s?” he retorted, because even backed into a corner Tom refused to back down. The owner of the voice seemed to appreciate it because the strain on his body lessened slightly, allowing him to breathe easier.

He still couldn’t straighten up though, and he let out an involuntary gasp as the corner of a ratty robe came into view. 

“Yes,” said the voice, “but you more than most. You constantly seek a way to evade me even though it is futile to do so.”

“You’re talking about the horcruxes,” he said, because there was no way the voice wasn’t. The books had never mentioned the horcruxes having this type of side-effect and he wondered if horcruxes only hastened death’s approach. It would be fitting if it had, considering what he had to do to create one.

Luckily, he hadn’t created one yet; he hadn’t even gone further than asking Professor Slughorn about it. “I won’t make one,” he said when the voice remained silent and to his surprise, the voice scoffed. 

“You will,” it said, and then in a much more defined voice, “but I’m here to stop you.”

“What?” escaped him and then the voice was laughing, definitely less sinister than before. Almost immediately, the pressure holding him abated and even though he could move now, Tom stayed still, the fear too overwhelming to even think about moving. But when the thing he feared most did not happen, he finally looked up.

He recoiled immediately, his nostrils flaring as he stared up in horror. There was a skeleton looking down at him covered up by the tattered robe he had seen earlier. 

“Oh,” said the skeleton and in one blink and the next, it was replaced by a much younger male with long black hair tied off in a low ponytail. He wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look hostile either, which Tom took to mean he wouldn’t be killing Tom. 

He must be using a glamour, he reasoned. He had to be a strong wizard to be able to hold him down for so long and as subtly as he could, glanced around the room they were in.

There were no walls. The endless sky seemed to go on forever. The fear was slowly coming back, an emotion he was very unfamiliar with and it made him want to lash out.

“Is this better?” asked the wizard, sounding beyond bored as he looked at Tom, his mouth slightly tilted downward as Tom narrowed his eyes at him.

“Who are you?” he asked, instead of deigning his question with an answer because even faced with a strange entity like this, Tom would rather die than admit he was afraid.

He seemed as if he knew how Tom was feeling because he didn’t call him out on it. Instead, he held out his hand for Tom to shake, his smirk more sinister than friendly. 

“You may call me Hel,” he said, “or Death, I suppose.”

Tom took a deep breath before steeling his courage back up despite the way his heart was beating uncontrollably. He never showed fear, so despite the way his words made him tremble, he shook his hand.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Hel,” he said, as firmly as he could, and his next few words died in his throat when Hel’s smile widened.

* * *

He lkept him there for what felt like forever. Halfway through, Tom was sure he was going to kill him on the spot.

But he left him alive. For him own purposes, of course. Tom was sure if he couldn’t give him anything, Hel would’ve washed his hands of him.

Tom was lucky, in that regard. Researching the horcruxes had been a whim when no other avenues were open to him. Immortality granted by the horcruxes was a fleeting thing.

As Hel explained, if he made the horcruxes, he would alter his fate forever. He would become a ghastly man, intent on saving the world in his own way by destroying so many lives. He would be a husk of his former self, barely able to turn the end of his wand into a light. His connection to magic would be severed as a result and his sanity destroyed.

And in return for saving him, Hel wanted Tom to save Hel's Master from what Tom would've become in a different world. A world where he was not able to save Tom from the fate of the horcruxes. And in return, Hel would grant him immortality and a single boon.

It was a far-fetched tale. If Tom hadn’t lived it, he would had thought it a dream. But a book as black as Hel’s eyes had been resting on his chest when he woke, and in it, outlined a ritual that would bring him to another world.

Of course, Hel would grant him a trip back to his original world after everything was done. But Tom had no intention of returning here. 

Thanks to the ritual’s inscriptions, Tom learned of one very vital fact. And that was Hel’s Master shared magic with him. That meant that Hel’s master was his magic bond. 

Most of the time, magic bonds were never given a chance to meet each other. It was speculated that magic never died; when a wizard died, their magic would go up into the atmosphere and then be reborn in an infant. However, sometimes there was a glitch in the system, and two people existed in the same time with the same magic. This meant that they could share magic and that their spells worked differently when they cast them together. It was an esoteric study though; hardly anyone believed they existed so there weren't any recorded instances of them.

If Harry Potter truly was to be his other half, then Tom had no reason to return back to his world. This made his decision to empty out his vaults into a bag charmed with an extension charm an easy one, and even if he decided to come back, Tom knew he could explain it away easily with his relationship with the goblins.

There were other things he had to prepare. Money was one of the top priorities. But also food, clothes, a magical tent, the list went on and on. Tom had no idea where the ritual would spit him out so he had to be prepared for anything.

And he had to prepare for the one condition Hel had given him. If Harry Potter’s heart stopped, so would Tom’s. Their lives were linked. Since Tom’s other self in this world was an insane Dark Lord, Hel had to give Tom a body he fashioned. A body that couldn’t even use magic.

Although Tom had been irked at the inconvenience, Hel had promised he would allow him use of his powers until Harry was able to claim his inheritance. As such, Tom had been pacified, especially because he knew Harry and he shared magic. He was sure he could find a workaround.

His most important priority was to keep Harry safe. It shouldn’t be difficult, not with how Hel had shown his other self to be. Irrational with magic waned to a degree he wouldn’t even call him a true wizard anymore. Instead, he had relied on magic darker than he had ever seen, and Tom shuddered when he thought that could had been him.

Now, he had another path to take. He could spirit Harry Potter away and search for the Deathly Hallows together, the three items that would make Harry Potter the Master of Death once again. His true destiny. And with that, his quest will be complete. With learning about the details of a magic bond and then gaining immortality, Tom never felt surer about his path in life.

So after a month of extensive preparations, Tom locked the door in his bedroom away, his heart thudding hard as he took one last look at his world.

And then with a deep breath, Tom started preparing for the ritual, knowing that just in two hours, his life would be changed forever.

* * *

When Tom finally blinked his eyes open, he was startled to find that his whole body hurt. The ritual had said that he would be in a safe spot when he finally came to, but this was…

He frowned, looking around him. Things were taller than he remembered here in the future. The trees seemed to tower over him, and he frowned, almost dreading what he was going to see when he looked down.

“This can’t be happening,” he muttered to himself, dropping his charmed bag to the floor as he opened it wide, reaching in further than its dimensions.

He was smaller, there was no doubt about that. Even looking at his hands he could tell he was no longer a teenager and instead was much, much younger. Everything he had read told him that this meant that his age now matched Harry Potter’s which meant that somewhere in the world Harry was only a kid. Which put him in so much danger that Tom was _worried_. Who knew what kind of mischief a little kid could get into – _especially_ with a madman hunting him. He had to hurry if he had any hope in accomplishing what Hel wanted.

With a sigh of relief, his hands finally closed around the object he had been looking for. He had been worried that someone could recognize him in the future, so he had found a ring that projected a glamour that couldn’t be dispelled. He had thought it would be just a disguise, not something so necessary that he never wanted to lose it. Without magic, he had to be careful, and he didn’t want anyone to know that he was just a little kid right now.

Which was annoying. Hel really should had warned him about this before he agreed; though it wasn’t as if Tom _couldn’t_ agree. If he had said anything but yes, he was sure Hel would had tired of him and killed him.

Now everything was much trickier than he planned. He thought he would be taking care of another teenager like him. Possibly even a student of Hogwarts.

Now, not only did he have to _find_ Harry Potter, he had to take care of him while they were both children. It sounded impossible.

But Tom had prepared endlessly for this. Even if this was not what he expected, he was sure he could find a way. With a sigh, he slipped the ring on, his mind racing as he started making a new plan, one that took into consideration the fact that he was now, essentially, a child. Adults definitely would not take him seriously if they knew his age; however, that didn’t mean Tom had to let them know his age.

It was infinitely more fun thinking up a plan than it was presiding over the Hogwarts student body back in his home, so Tom let his imagination run wild as he made his way toward Diagon Alley.

* * *

It was three months after Tom had first arrived and things were settling in nicely.

Tom found a place rather quickly with the amount of money he had stored in his charmed bag. After buying the deed to a small cottage in a nice, isolated neighborhood, Tom had set about making the place secure from any prying eyes. 

After that, he had found an identity. Pretending to be pureblood wouldn’t work, of course, but muggleborns were basically untraceable. No one seemed to _care_ about his muggle parents and even though Tom was annoyed that people would now think he was a muggleborn, it was nothing compared to the hassle it would be making himself a pureblood heir. Besides, in the future he can always claim the Slytherin heritage as he did in the past; it had been easy enough back then and even _if_ his body was apparently fashioned by Hel, it should be easy enough to answer the rigorous questioning by the goblins.

And finally, Tom had reached the last stage. Finding Harry Potter.

Well, finding information on Harry Potter had been laughably easy. Even the history book of Hogwarts mentioned his new charge. He found it rather lax of the Wizarding World to laud such a small baby for killing a Dark Lord, especially since he himself knew that the Dark Lord was still alive now. No wonder Hel had basically strongarmed him into protecting Harry. Without him, he was sure his other self would be able to kill him whenever he wanted.

The thought of that kept him up at night sometimes, knowing that his own life might be in danger at any second. He had to work faster and harder to make sure Harry stayed safe once he was able to find him.

Luckily, the ritual _helped_. If he modified it just a little, instead of transporting him straight there, he could follow it as a tracker to where Harry was staying. And now that he had everything in order, complete with textbooks he ordered to help teach Harry magic, he could go see where Harry was staying. He could always pretend to be a classmate of Harry’s and stay close to him that way…the possibilities were endless. As long as he could gather the information, Tom was sure he would succeed.

He left the ring at home the day when he went to find Harry. It would be better if he was spotted as a young kid than an older adult, even if it would make things difficult if an adult spotted him. Though a muggle adult would never be able to spot him; even a wizard or witch would have trouble seeing through the powers Hel had given him.

Despite not having the ability to channel magic, Tom wasn’t too worried. Hel’s powers were…a cheat, in a way. He was still figuring out the basics of itself, but in his opinion, Hel had given him a special version of the Deathly Hallows. The invisibility cloak wasn’t a _cloak,_ per se, but it wasn’t as strong as it could be. It was made out of magic and fit perfectly over his small body without too much strain. The wand did magic _for_ him, though only combat magic, and Tom hadn’t even begun to touch the resurrection stone. He didn’t want to rely too much on Hel, after all, just in case he decided to forsake him. There was no question who his true Master was.

Tom was looking at him now. He was scrawnier than he thought he would be. His glasses were broken, barely held together with tape. There were bruises all over his legs and he was thin. So thin.

It reminded Tom uncomfortably of himself.

Is this why Hel had been so sure that Tom was the right choice to save his Master? 

He couldn’t possibly know of his history at the Orphanage…except he could. He is Death, after all, no matter how normal he had looked the last Tom had seen him.

He wanted to approach Harry, not because his life depended on it, but because he could see himself in Harry. In the way the other schoolkids didn’t talk to him, how one of them straight up bullied him as the teachers turned a blind eye. He followed Harry silently as they made their way back to an extremely ordinary house. It held no charm, no uniqueness to set it apart from the many others just down the drive. And then he watched as Harry was told to do the chores, to _cook_ at his age, and then all to retire in the cupboard underneath the stairs.

How could the Wizarding World let their savior be treated like this? How could _anyone_ let a kid be treated like this?

But then he remembered. He was just as young as Harry when the adults had turned a blind eye to his plight. The matrons at the orphanage had done nothing to help him, even when the other kids had stolen things from him. They never got to lay a hand on him, thanks to Tom’s magic, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t had _tried_.

Seething, Tom settled down to wait, and wondered just how much trouble would he be in for breaking Harry out. Surely there had to be someone from the Wizarding World watching over the kid. There was no way that meddlesome old fool would let the “savior” be left unguarded. Something could _happen._

Tom was irked even more at the thought that it wasn’t his own life he was worried about; it was Harry’s. Even though Harry’s life ending meant Tom's would end, right now what mattered was that Dumbledore had once again turned a blind eye to a child's dismal living conditions. Even now, he still remembered how Dumbledore had contested Dippet letting him stay in Hogwarts, and how it had led to him staying in the Orphanage despite all the bad things that had been going on there.

He could see it now, even when Harry had left for Hogwarts, there was a high chance he would come back here, how he would face the same dread that Tom felt every summer. How he knew that no matter how much power he felt at Hogwarts, it would all be stripped away by the same old bullies that haunted his nightmares for _so_ long.

But still…

He still wasn’t in a position to approach Harry. He had to gather more information first.

Tom wasn’t someone who would disregard everything and charge into action. He was _patient_.

He had to remind himself of this as he watched Harry’s family treat him like nothing else but a house pet, and dug his nails into his palm to keep himself grounded.

* * *

Something was different.

Harry didn’t know when things changed. He just knew that they had. Dudley didn’t approach him anymore, even when they weren’t at school. Harry knew that Dudley was probably just _waiting_ for something, for Harry to slip up and go down a place by himself, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different.

Sometimes, Harry would find candy in the strangest of places. He could be walking back from recess to his classroom, and there would be an assortment of sweets waiting for him on one of the ledges. At first, he had walked past it, but the next time he came across it, his name had been spelled quite elegantly across it. 

The bullies wouldn’t possibly use this tactic to hurt him, so he had just eaten it. It was so sweet and so good that Harry had nearly cried as he finished the last one, only to be presented with even more the next time he was somewhere alone.

Harry was sure he had a fairy godmother now. He had found the book about Cinderella in a library one special day, when the Dursleys had actually left him alone to go somewhere, and he had devoured it eagerly, each word bringing even more hope. Maybe one day, someone would come spirit him away from this life, where he would finally _matter_ to someone.

At first, his fairy godmother only kept to the sweets. And then Dudley approached him one day, all swagger in his walk and anger in his face. Harry had cowered, knowing he was in for something _horrible_ , when all of a sudden, there were running footsteps and Dudley was gone. That something that had scared his cousin was still _here_ now.

He knew it could be something evil. He read books about scenarios just like this. 

But he didn’t care, not when it made Dudley leave him alone. He tucked this knowledge away and knew for sure now that someone was looking out for him. It made it easier to smile, to get through the day of endless chores, and now he finally had something to look forward to. 

He hoped this mystery person stayed here _forever_.

It was one fated day that Harry finally saw him. He was young, just like him, and nothing made sense because Harry swore he wasn’t actually seeing him. There was something _wrong_ about it, like a second skin floating right above the kid and it was just so weird that Harry stood and gaped for a long second.

The Dursleys were out on another shopping trip with their precious son, so it was just him for the day. The Dursleys had left him an extensive list of chores that he really should get to work on before they come back and he gets scolded, but he can’t bring himself to move.

Because the kid was looking right back at him, his red eyes as piercing as they were beautiful and Harry’s mouth felt uncomfortably dry as they stood there looking at each other.

“You can see me?” the kid asked, and Harry hesitantly nodded yes before steeling his courage.

“Are you the one leaving the sweets?”

The kid’s eyes widen, no longer looking as intense as they were earlier and instead friendlier. Up close, the kid looked normal and when Harry blinked the second skin he had been seeing had disappeared.

“Hm,” said the kid, sounding uncertain, and then he sighed. “I can’t lie to you for some reason. Yes, it was me.”

“Thank you,” he said, as sincerely as he could, and then before his courage could fail him, surged forward and brought the other kid into a hug. He knew something was weird about this; how could a kid leave sweets in his _school_ without catching attention? But then again, he knew his fairy godmother was someone special and this kid _was_ special. Because being pressed up so close to the kid was making his whole body sing for some odd reason and it felt right. As if finally something had come home. As if his life suddenly mattered.

“You’re not scared?” asked the kid, even as he awkwardly patted Harry’s back in an attempt of a hug back. Harry didn’t get many hugs or give many, but even he felt better at this than the kid. To make up for thinking such rude thoughts, Harry stepped back, swinging his arms back to his side.

“No,” he said, “you’re like Cinderella’s fairy godmother.” He tried to sound as earnest as he could, but it didn’t seem to work because the kid’s face scrunched up as if he was offended.

“I know what you’re talking about,” the kid finally admitted. “Unfortunately. Don’t you have questions?”

The kid was puzzled by him. Harry couldn’t blame him; he was just as curious. “Loads,” he said, honestly, and didn’t expect the kid to nod as if he was okay with Harry being curious. Usually, people never answered his questions; that privilege was for Dudley and everyone else. Never him.

“Ask them,” said the kid. “Your family won’t be home until dark.”

He bristled slightly at the idea of the Dursleys as _family_ , but he knew better than to bring it up. It would ruin the mood that had settled in around them, carefree in the summer sun as they smiled at each other. Harry knew he should be scared. This kid wasn’t normal; his eyes were almost like an adult’s and his smile not much better.

But Harry drank his fill because this kid was the only one that seemed to care about him. So he smiled sunnily back at the kid and asked the question he had been dying to ask for so long.

“Who are you?”

“A friend,” the kid finally settled on after a long moment of hesitation. And then a hum. “A guardian, Hel said,” he continued. “ _Your_ guardian.”

Harry’s heart had never felt fuller than it had at that moment, hearing the kid proclaim to be his friend and then his …

“I don’t know what that means,” he said, honestly, and the kid bit his lip, as if holding back laughter.

“You will,” he promised, and Harry frowned at the hint of laughter in the kid’s voice. The kid’s voice was soft as he continued, “It means I’m here for you, Harry. Forever.

“Forever,” said Harry. “I’m okay with that. And why do you know my name and I don’t know yours?”

“Because I know everything,” said the kid. There was a long moment before the kid finally continued, sounding hesitant as if his own name was something he had to think ages on, “You can call me Tom.”

“Okay,” said Harry, “Tom then.”

“Tom,” repeated Tom, nodding his head as if to affirm his decision.

It felt like something important was happening, as if this was one of those moments that Harry knew he was going to remember forever. He wanted the day to never end, for the Dursleys to never come back, and that he could spend the rest of the summer day pestering his new found friend with questions.

* * *

Tom took a deep breath.

He hadn’t meant to give Harry his real name. He wasn’t supposed to be this close to Harry. At least not yet. He didn’t want any questions to be raised before he could find out a good reason to stay by Harry’s side.

Dumbledore would no doubt get in his way if he didn’t follow his gut and back away, but something in Harry’s eyes made him unable to leave.

Harry just wanted someone to talk to him, and Tom would be loathe to leave him now. Not with Harry finally wearing himself out and falling asleep against the tree’s trunk. And he couldn’t leave, not when the Dursleys were due back any moment.

He could spell all the chores Harry had to do with ease with Hel’s wand…maybe if he thought of it as a battle. But the chores were never meant to be finished. They were this long because the Dursleys wanted to have a scapegoat to yell at. They wanted to use Harry to feel better about themselves and Tom wanted nothing more than to pound it into their thick skulls that they were _nothing_ compared to Harry.

The spell was right. Harry’s magic was akin to his own and it made it intoxicating staying by his side.

He sighed, being careful not to wake Harry up. He needed time to think. He needed time to _cool_ down and not do something stupid. Something stupid would be taking Harry with him. Threatening the Dursleys so they wouldn’t be an obstacle. Raising Harry on his own in the little cottage he had bought. After all, he would definitely be a better teacher than Muggles.

But it was something he could only idly think about. First off, Harry would never go with him because Harry had only known him for less than a day. And secondly, it wasn’t part of the plan. Tom had spent these three months writing out a plan and getting attached would only derail it. Dumbledore would hunt him down if he knew Harry was essentially kidnapped.

So Tom was going to leave. But to leave meant leaving Harry behind to deal with the Dursleys that were no doubt frothing at the mouths to come and yell at Harry some more. 

Before he could come to a decision, the Dursleys arrived home, their car pulling into the perfect driveway. Tom didn’t have any time at all to leave, but using Hel’s invisibility was second nature to him now. 

Harry startled awake to the sound of the car engine and he blinked blearily, looking around. His eyes alighted on Tom and he squinted, and Tom would have to spend time later figuring out how Harry could see him even with the help of Hel.

“Boy!” called the male Dursley, and Tom wrinkled his nose as the muggle got close. Unfortunately, it was hard to move with the invisibility, so Tom got to see everything happen up close. 

And it was fine. Tom was fine. Tom was older than he looked, he didn’t rely on his emotions –

Between one second and the next, the male Dursley’s hand was on Harry’s collar and then it wasn’t.

With movement, the invisibility melted away, and Hel’s wand reacted before Tom could even do anything, _stupefying_ the male Dursley and knocking him out a few yards away.

It took all of Tom’s last remaining will not to curse and he held out a hand to Harry, helping him up for he had fallen during the scuffle. “I messed up,” he said, honestly, and he _really_ had to find out why he couldn’t lie to Harry, “you’re going to be in trouble. Because of me.”

“The neighbors,” the female Dursley was saying, wringing her hands. “I don’t – why are you even here? He always sends notice and…”

“Who?” asked Tom, catching onto her words. She looked even more distraught at being addressed.

“ _Him!”_ she all but wailed, and it seemed as the stress of everything was getting to her the more her eyes darted to her unconscious husband. “Oh, what will the neighbors _say_? It’s almost – they’re going to see this and know that we’re related to _freaks_.”

Tom didn’t share any sympathy for her. If he had his magic, sure, maybe he would’ve banished the male Dursley into the house, but the wand only knew combat magic so the best he could do was make him disappear. And that would probably not win any points with Harry who was still surprisingly quiet behind him.

“Freaks?” he tried.

“People like you,” she said, venom dripping from every word. “Honestly, I wish you would just take him away for good! He belongs with people like you.”

“Can I?” he asked, hardly able to believe his good fortune. “And you won’t tell anyone?”

“No!” she screamed. “Good riddance! Take him and never come back!”

While Tom registered that the words sounded quite good to him, they might be cutting into Harry since he might still consider these people his family. So he dithered, unsure of what to do, when Harry caught his elbow, making him turn to face him.

He wasn’t crying as Tom had seen before. He had seen Harry broken down in the aftermath of his cousin. In the aftermath of dealing with the Dursleys each and every day. This wasn’t a distraught Harry. Instead, he looked hopeful, his green eyes impossibly large as he stared up at Tom. “Can I really come with you?”

He nodded; his throat uncomfortably tight. “You don’t know me,” he said, and yes, he acknowledged that he was probably way better than the Dursleys, but he wasn’t good by any means. Just a few months ago, he had been actually considering killing someone to make a horcrux. “I could be a bad person.”

“You’re not,” said Harry, firm and trusting, and Tom wondered if this was a side effect of the magic shared in-between them or something else. But that thought was soon ushered away when Harry smiled at him, “You’re my friend.”

“Okay,” he said, because in the face of Harry’s blind trust how could he not take him and leave him here? After he messed everything up and knocked the male Dursley out? Leaving Harry here would be a death sentence.

Which meant a death sentence for him since their lives were linked and all.

Thinking of it made him feel slightly better. He was not getting soft. Protecting Harry was like protecting himself. Spending a whole afternoon consoling a child starved of any sort of affection had made him feel all out of sorts.

But rationalizing it, Harry wasn’t safe here. Tom didn’t know what Dumbledore was doing or thinking. He didn’t even know if this was what Hel wanted, if Hel actually just wanted him to watch from the sidelines to make sure his Master was safe.

It didn’t matter. Because if Harry wasn’t safe, then Tom wasn’t and Tom was just looking out for himself.

“You don’t need a single thing from that house,” he said, “but if you wanted…”

“No,” said Harry. “Take me away from here. Please.”

Tom was extremely grateful that the wand considered apparation combat magic. Thanks to that, it would be easy to listen to Harry’s request.

He still had some loose ends to tie up though, and he turned to face the female Dursley. First, he'll have to obliviate her. It was nice she was willing to let Harry go, but she was talking to someone that was highly likely to be Dumbledore. And Dumbledore may read her thoughts, so it was safer if she thought Harry dead. Having her husband unconscious outside would only help sell that story.

And after being presumed dead by the Wizarding World, Harry would be safe with him.

Tom would make sure of it.


	2. Chapter 2

Arabella Figg knew Albus would come find her soon. She knew as soon as she saw what was happening through her window and knew it when the Dursleys came knocking at her door to let her know that Harry was now missing.

She watched over Harry whenever the Dursleys went on their longer trips and Harry was a kind boy. He didn’t deserve someone like the Dursleys as family. She didn’t say anything though, and only nodded, promising not to spread the story that their charge was now gone.

After all, the Durlseys only cared about themselves and Harry was not included in that. They would probably forget all about Harry in a week.

But Arabella didn’t think they _should_ forget about Harry. She didn’t even know if Harry was okay now; she had never seen the kid that had been with Harry and she definitely didn’t think a kid should know how to apparate. He had obviously been hiding his true appearance, and maybe the kid even worked for You-Know-Who. Dumbledore had always said that You-Know-Who was coming back and that was why they had to leave Harry in the Dursleys’ care.

Even despite her telling Dumbledore a hundred times that something was wrong, that she could see Harry cooking through the window with the magical magnifying glass she had been given, and that his legs were colored a shade they shouldn’t be, nothing ever changed. She would watch as Dumbledore walked over to the Dursleys and they would sit down for a cup of tea and talk and yet, Harry was _still_ there. He still lived in that cupboard beneath the stairs and she watched throughout the years, hoping that one day Harry would be moved into the second bedroom they had. Because of course the Dursleys had _two_ bedrooms, for appearances if nothing else, and yet Harry still never moved.

She had even pleaded with Dumbledore, promising that even though she was a squib she would be able to raise Harry. He got along with her cats after all, and she was sure he would love to help her in her business of cross-breeding cats. He had a smart mind and Arabella enjoyed having him around.

But the answer was always a dismissal, and she hated it. She hated how Dumbledore looked down at her, how the _world_ looked down at her, and maybe she was wrong to try to do something to help the savior of their world. Maybe they _wanted_ Harry here so they could forget about the debt they owed him all under the guise of keeping him safe.

Because really, what could muggles do against you-know-who? And who was keeping _Harry_ safe from them?

Dumbledore wouldn’t approve of what she was going to do next. She didn’t even really know if she approved of what she was going to do.

But she was still going ahead with it because how could she not? It was the right thing to do. 

Luckily, Harry had left behind some clothes in her house. And she hadn’t even cleaned up the towel she had used to wipe Harry’s arms when one of her cats had gotten too feisty and had swiped him by accident. She even had the shirt that had been ruined because of it in her trashcan, conveniently covered in blood still. And Harry had been so sweet, he hadn’t even been angry, understanding that the cat hadn’t done it on purpose.

She was going to make sure the Dursleys pay for what they’ve done. 

* * *

Two weeks later, Arabella was standing by her window, sipping a cup of tea as she watched the proceedings at Privet Drive.

Vernon was being led out in handcuffs, Petunia wringing her hands nervously as she always did as tears ran down her cheeks.

The officer didn’t even question her for that long. Planting the evidence had been the trickiest part, but with the Dursleys at work and their son at school, she hadn’t been in any danger of being caught.

The thing was, no matter how much the Dursleys thought they could hide, the neighbors knew exactly what had been going on. The house had large windows of course, and the Dursleys were arrogant enough to make Harry work on the garden during the weekends. And with Harry being such a sweet boy, of course the neighbors had gone over to make sure he had been alright, bringing lemonade and snacks for the hard-working boy and then conveniently finding out that he had been left all alone with a huge list of chores while the Dursleys went shopping with their son.

With the neighbors being such busybodies and gossips, it soon became talk of the town how _strange_ the Dursleys were. How sweet Harry was. And when they learned of his strange disappearance, well, Arabella made sure to whisper to them how sometimes when Harry came over to her house, she would see bruises on his legs. She would emphasize how she would cook large meals because Harry was just _so_ thin. And my, what a _temper_ Vernon had every time he came over to pick Harry up, not even giving him enough time to gather his things before marching him back home.

When the officers finally came around to questioning her, she had been more than helpful. She told them all about what she had seen that day, not even lying when she saw a body get thrown to the side. She just didn’t mention it had been Vernon being thrown, not poor, defenseless Harry.

And how strange that the Dursleys were telling people that Harry ran away. Where would he even run? He was only eight and Harry trusted _her_. He would’ve come to her first before running away and she would’ve gladly sheltered him. She didn’t believe the Dursleys and she made sure to point out that she had seen smoke in the Dursleys’ backyard the day Harry had gone missing.

Combined with the Dursleys spotty alibi – “I’m telling you the truth, the boy killed him, not us!” “So you’re saying a kid broke in and killed Harry but didn’t attack the three of you?” – and how they had lied beforehand saying Harry had run away and not been _killed_ , the bloody shirt she had burned and thrown in the backyard was enough to make the Dursleys guilty.

And now, Vernon Dursley was being put away without even a trial. It was delicious, the tea and of course the punishment the Dursleys were now finally getting. 

Now that things were finally done, Arabella supposed she could finally contact Dumbledore and let him know what was going on. She was quite disappointed; it had been two weeks and Dumbledore still didn’t know the savior of their world was missing? Regardless, it had given her enough time to weave the story of Harry’s abuse and get him due justice, so she supposed she shouldn’t be too hard on the man.

At least, Dumbledore would be instrumental in getting Harry to safety and she guessed that was all she could hope for.

She was just about to start writing her letter when there was a knock on the door.

Puzzled, she put down her quill, making her way to the front door. To her surprise, it was the boy she had seen with Harry just two weeks ago. The surprise nearly made her knees buckle and her heart start beating uncomfortably fast. But there was no reason to worry or be afraid because if this boy wanted to hurt her, well, how could she even defend herself? A letter would take far too long, and she doubted Dumbledore was watching over her when he wasn’t even watching Harry.

So she threw caution to the wind, and opened the door.

* * *

Conversing with Mrs. Figg had been enjoyable, to say the least. Not only because Tom relished in the fact that the Durlseys were getting their comeuppance but also because he learned that Mrs. Figg hadn’t contacted Dumbledore yet.

He had hoped, of course, based off the fact that he hadn’t seen a single owl leave her residence in the time he had been monitoring her, but he couldn’t believe he had time to actually help solidify Mrs. Figg’s case.

She had done her best since she didn’t have magic. The bloody shirt had been a stroke of genius, in his opinion. But magic would help sway the muggle police enforcement to never look into the case again, and hopefully, the evidence he brought would help convince the Wizarding World as well.

He had learned of her connection with Dumbledore thanks to Harry. Harry had mentioned her cats, and when describing them, Tom realized that some of them weren’t actually cats. They were kneazles.

He wondered if he should get Harry a pet. Harry had seemed quite fond when he had talked about the cats, after all, and it would be a nice gift. Harry had settled in so well into Tom’s life that it was a bit surprising, if he was being honest with himself. Tom hadn’t had many close relationships back in his old world, not with how cutthroat the Slytherins had been. They had only respected those that were in a better position than them so Tom had to be just as cutthroat as them if he wanted to survive.

It wasn’t the greatest environment to foster close relationships. 

Regardless, Harry only deserved the best, and Tom figured a reward would be in order for how well Harry was settling in.

They had gone shopping the day after he had taken Harry home. He had bought Harry clothes, food, textbooks, basically anything Harry needed, but most importantly, he had gotten Harry new glasses. Which meant he could charm Harry’s broken glasses with magic, enough so that Dumbledore would suspect foul play. 

Dumbledore would never believe that the Dursleys had killed Harry. It would go against every fiber of his being to believe a muggle capable of such evil. But if a wizard was involved…well, Dumbledore would believe it. And since the Dursleys had been clearly obliviated… 

This had to be enough. Even if it wasn’t, Tom would make sure the two of them stayed safe and unknown in Tom’s little cottage. With Mrs. Figg promising compliance in exchange for coming over to see Harry, that would be the final push Dumbledore needed to believe his precious savior was dead.

After dropping Harry’s old glasses near the Dursleys’ house, he was done for the day. Harry should just be waking up now; Harry had never been given the luxury of sleeping in on weekends so Tom had decided to indulge him for once. Tom should be heading home after one last stop.

Harry deserved a reward, after all, and if not a pet, well, chocolate would do.

* * *

**Three Years Later**

Harry had to be careful. Tom was a light sleeper and had an uncanny ability of knowing where Harry was at all times. Harry would had suspected magic, if Tom’s magic didn’t have an unfortunate case of not working on Harry. Tom bemoaned this fact often, as well as Tom could whine about anything; this was something that really got on Tom’s nerves. It was something that Harry thought hilarious, even if the thought would get him a sulky Tom for the rest of the day.

Tom ‘kidnapping’ him that day was still one of the best memories of Harry’s life. Now that Harry was almost eleven, he understood how foolish he was to just take Tom’s word at face value, that really, Tom could’ve been trying to hurt him. Tom tried to drill this into him often, saying things like just because _this_ worked out, you shouldn’t go along with strangers, and Harry would good-naturedly nod his head because if he didn’t, Tom’s eyes would get a little crazy as he tried to get Harry to understand how stupid his past actions had been.

It wasn’t like Harry would go along with just anyone! Tom had been a special case, as he tried to tell Tom often only to be met with even more of Tom’s annoyed face. Harry knew by now better than to go along with just anyone.

He was going to get in trouble now, though. He was sure of it. Tom would be furious with him as soon as he got back, and he would have to deal with an annoyed Tom for the rest of the week.

But it was a risk he would have to take. 

Harry could deal with going to school without Tom. Tom had refused to go with him without telling him reasons why, though of course Harry had his own theories. Tom couldn’t lie to him, as he found out during the three years he had been living with Tom, but Harry had felt bad pressing Tom for answers. Tom would answer, but they would be clipped, even if they held the truth, and then Tom would avoid him for the rest of the day. Harry had been satisfied knowing that Tom only wanted to protect him and knew Tom would tell him when he had to. It was safer for him not to know, anyway, which was what Tom told him, and Harry believed him.

But Tom had told him all about Hogwarts. Of course, him going was still up in the air considering Tom had told him he let everyone think he was dead, which was a problem in itself, but Harry could care less about going to a magic school if Tom wasn’t going with him.

Besides, after school everyday, Tom would teach him magic. If Tom was teaching him magic, then why would he need to go to Hogwarts?

Tom was insistent that him teaching him magic was to protect him for when he was going to Hogwarts, and that apparently, Hogwarts was going to be one of the best times in Harry’s life. But Harry found that hard to imagine, since without Tom, how could Hogwarts be any fun?

Tom couldn’t go to Hogwarts with him because he couldn’t use magic. He could use combat magic as he had found out, and he was able to use this weird magic to hide from people – which of course, didn’t work on Harry. But Tom couldn’t cast the spells that he was teaching Harry. Simple spells, like making the pots clean themselves or even turning on the lights, weren’t able to be cast by Tom.

Tom didn’t seem too bothered, but Harry knew his friend better than anyone else. Maybe even better than Harry knew himself. And Tom wanted to go to Hogwarts. He could tell in the way Tom’s voice turned wistful when he told Harry about it. How there was a library that held an almost impossible amount of books. How the grand hall was massive and had a ceiling of twinkling stars.

Of course, Tom wasn’t supposed to have been there yet considering Tom and Harry were the same age, but Harry didn’t press, just tucked that knowledge away for later.

That was why Harry was going to Diagon Alley. He had to find a way to get Tom’s magic back, or else he would have to leave Tom. And that was the last thing Harry wanted to do. Going to school for the better part of the day five days a week without Tom was enough torture as it was.

Going to school and not seeing Tom for weeks on end until the holidays?

Harry would rather die than let that happen.

So he took a handful of floo powder and stepped into their fireplace, letting the magic whisk him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I'm debating of putting Tom into Gryffindor with Harry. thoughts? XD
> 
> thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bolded sentence from Ollivander are taken from the source material :)

Garrick Ollivander wasn’t expecting much when a small boy walked into his wand shop. He was worried, of course, since the boy seemed to be alone and he was much too young to be visiting wand shops without his parents. He stared, trying to figure out why the boy seemed so familiar, when the boy walked up, green eyes impossible to mistake even behind lenses.

This was Lily’s boy.

Dumbledore would be overjoyed to hear that Harry Potter was still alive. But Garrick hesitated. He didn’t want to call Dumbledore this quickly; an intervention by the older wizard may backfire if Harry ran by then. A delicate touch was needed. So he stayed quiet and waited until Harry walked up by himself.

And then nearly had a heart attack. The boy was holding a wand he would never forget. Yew, thirteen and a half inches long, and affixed with a phoenix feather. Voldemort’s wand. Just where had this boy been since he had gone missing?

“Hello,” he said, as kindly and gently as he could, and was rewarded when Harry smiled at him. It was good that Harry seemed to be just as kind as his parents were, it meant that even though he had been missing those three years, he hadn’t been in a bad place. “Now what do you have there?”

“It’s my friend’s wand,” said Harry, earnestly, and Garrick’s heart melted at the way Harry was looking at him. It had been a great tragedy when Harry’s parents were lost to the world. “He can’t use it anymore.”

His friend’s wand. As in You-Know-Who's.

Garrick was puzzled. There was no way You-Know-Who would had given Harry his wand; there was no way Harry would still be alive now if he had gotten that close to him. It baffled the mind and it was taking all of Garrick’s years and wisdom not to react visibly. He would only scare Harry if he did.

“Is there something wrong with the wand, sir?” asked Harry. “I don’t understand because I can use the wand fine.”

“Ah,” said Garrick, responding mostly out of habit than anything else since his brainpower was mostly taken up by the idea that Harry was holding _his_ wand, “the wand must accept the wizard for it to be used properly.”

“Oh,” said Harry, and he was sure the boy was going to say something else important but Garrick had to interrupt because the possibilities this opened up was extraordinary. He always suspected that the two would be linked in more ways than one and the idea that Harry could use his wand was very interesting. Perhaps that wand would be a perfect fit…

He didn’t even hear Harry’s words as he rushed to look for the twin to the wand Harry was holding, and within a minute, he had found it. His hands were shaking as he took the cover off, revealing the wand inside. It was made out of holly, eleven inches long, and held a tail feather from the same phoenix as the other wand. In other words, a perfect fit. He had never let another wizard or witch try the wand. After selling the wand that had caused so much pain, Garrick had been loathe to sell one so similar.

But before becoming a madman, Tom Riddle had been a prodigy. Great things were done with the wand, no matter how terrible, and having Lily’s boy use the wand would be a great way to salvage up old wounds. 

Harry didn’t remark on his shaking hands but he did take the wand carefully, his green eyes alight in the dimness of the shop. “What is this, sir?” he asked, but Garrick didn’t need to answer because the wand was already warming in his hands. Red and gold sparks shot out of the tip, falling through the air seconds later.

“Your new wand,” he said, eventually, because there was no mistaking how the wand was bonding to Harry. “ **It** **just so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in this wand gave another feather – just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar.”**

Harry’s face was worryingly blank and Garrick’s nervously fidgeted in anticipation. He couldn’t tell what the younger boy was thinking at all and he wasn’t sure how his words were going to be taken. But he had to let Harry know before he walked out of his shop.

“What scar?” Harry eventually asked, and he now he looked worried. He raised a hand as if to pat down his fringe.

“It may be hidden, Harry,” said Garrick, making sure to choose his words carefully, “But you have your mother’s eyes.”

“My mother?” repeated Harry, and this time, Harry’s hands were shaking. “You knew her, sir?”

“Yes,” said Garrick, “ **Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.”**

“My aunt never told me about her,” said Harry. “I didn’t know she liked charms. Will I …do you think I’ll be good at charms, sir?”

“No doubt you will be,” said Garrick, as kindly as he could. “Do you want to hear more about her? It’s a slow day, I can close shop and we can have a nice chat in the back.”

Harry hesitated, but only for a second, and then he was nodding, earnest. “Please,” he said.

Garrick grabbed his wand, magically spelling the open sign to change to closed. Then after ushering Harry to the back, he set around to making tea.

* * *

Harry’s head was spinning. He didn’t think Mr. Ollivander was lying. But he had always thought his parents had died in a car accident. It had been a fact in his life, something he never questioned and believed. But looking back on it, Harry really should’ve questioned it, especially since it was something the Dursleys had told him. They had never wanted to be kind to him, and this lie was anything but kind.

Mr. Ollivander definitely knew more than what he let on. As Harry was leaving the store, he had stopped Harry, asking if where Harry was staying was safe.

And if his friend was kind and trustworthy. 

Tom was kind. Possibly the kindest person he had ever met. He made sure Mr. Ollivander knew that before he made his way back to the cottage and wondered if he perhaps messed everything up.

But he couldn’t be mad he went. He learned about his parents and he learned about something so sinister that he wasn’t very surprised to learn that Tom had never told him about it.

Voldemort. The name of the man that had killed his parents.

Tom may have his reasons for keeping the truth from him, but Harry wasn’t afraid to confront Tom. It was time for Tom to finally tell him the truth and since Tom couldn’t lie to him, Harry was very confident about his prospects.

When he walked in, the cottage was eerily quiet. Tom must had found out where he went and was stewing in anger. He prepared himself and then pushed the kitchen door open.

To his surprise, Tom jumped when he entered. He was out of his seat in a second, getting close to Harry as his eyes roamed up and down Harry, checking for any injuries. “Where were you?” asked Tom, and despite everything, seeing Tom so worried about him made his heart fond.

“I’m fine,” he said, grabbing Tom’s shoulders to stop him from fretting. Tom stopped still, his eyes searching as he looked at Harry.

“It’s dangerous out there, Harry,” Tom finally said. “Why’d you skip class?”

“Next year, you said I’ll be going to Hogwarts. But you weren’t going to come with me.”

“I can’t,” said Tom, patiently. “You know why.”

He took a deep breath, knowing that Tom was probably not going to react favorably to his next words. “I went to Diagon Alley to find a way to get your magic back.”

“You went _where_?” asked Tom.

“I got a new wand,” he continued as if Tom didn’t say anything. “From Mr. Ollivander.”

“Harry,” said Tom, sounding weary, “did you bring my wand with you?”

“Maybe we should sit down,” he said and Tom’s eyes narrowed at him.

“You found out then,” said Tom. “I was planning to tell you as soon as you got older, you know.” Tom followed Harry’s advice, sitting back down on the chair he had vacated as soon as Harry came in. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

“So there is someone after me?” he asked. “The same person that killed my parents?”

Tom’s face was doing that thing it did whenever Tom didn’t want to tell him the truth. But something must be forcing him because finally Tom nodded. “I think it’s time you know everything,” said Tom. “But first, did he recognize the wand or you?”

Harry bit his lip, knowing that this was probably where he messed up. Tom had been so insistent on him not letting anyone know who he was, and now that he knew there was someone dangerous after him, it all made sense. “Yes?” he said hesitantly and watched guiltily as Tom’s face changed.

Harry had lived with Tom for so long he recognized Tom was thinking hard. So he waited patiently, until Tom let out a long sigh.

“Okay,” he said, “I’m guessing Ollivander let you go without calling Dumbledore because he’s waiting for the magic to tell you where we live. Now that he knows you’re alive, there’s no way the letter won’t be able to find you…which means I’ll need to find a way to explain why exactly I have his wand…”

“Tom,” interrupted Harry, reaching out and placing a hand on Tom’s. Tom stopped in his muttering, looking up at Harry with slightly crazed eyes. “It’ll be okay.”

“Once he knows where you are, you won’t be safe,” said Tom. “I don’t know if I can protect you while you’re at Hogwarts.”

“Why do you have to protect me?” asked Harry. “You’ve been teaching me magic so I can protect myself.”

“But that was before I knew you would be going as Harry Potter!” argued Tom. “You would’ve been much safer if you went nameless.”

“I don’t want to hide,” said Harry, firmly. “If he killed my parents, then I _want_ him to come after me.”

“Don’t be stupid, Harry,” said Tom, and normally Harry would bristle at the fact that Tom was being dismissive if it weren’t the fact that he could tell just how worried Tom was by the way his hands was shaking. “If you die, then I’ll die.”

“Tom,” he said, and then trailed off. He wasn’t sure what to say. It was touching to see Tom so fanatic about him, but he had never asked for Tom’s _life_. But then Tom was shaking his head in annoyance.

“No, you don’t understand, Harry. If you die, I’ll literally _die_.”

“ _You’re_ being stupid,” said Harry, “I don’t want you to die just because I did!”

Tom made a frustrated noise and then held a finger up. “No talking until I explain everything,” he said, and then he did. He explained how he was sent here by Death, how Harry was supposed to become the Master of Death in the future, how Tom had been roped into protecting him at the cost of his own life. That had been why Tom had taken him from the Dursleys, why Tom was still so cautious about anything that might hurt Harry.

Hearing all of that was tough at first. To think that Tom had ulterior motives all along stabbed at his heart. “That was why you saved me?” he asked, and Tom hesitated before nodding.

“I couldn’t leave you there, Harry,” said Tom. “I went through the same thing you did when I was younger. All I wanted was someone to come save me.” 

“Oh,” said Harry, the tight grip on his heart loosening. “I’m glad you did. Save me, I mean.”

Tom’s smile was soft, but Harry made sure not to point it out, knowing Tom always got all out of sorts whenever Harry teased him like that. It didn’t seem like the right time to tease Tom, not when the air was still so heavy.

“So now what?” he asked, and Tom sighed again, his shoulders stiffening back up. 

“I have to figure out a cover story,” said Tom. “Even if I’m not this Voldemort, I still am a version of him. You’re not…” he made a face and Harry just knew Tom was beating himself up for having all this _feelings_. “You don’t hate me right?”

“Why would I?” asked Harry. “you saved me, Tom. I know you’re nothing like him. And you’re going to help me get revenge, right?”

Tom frowned, “We’re not going to go get revenge on him, Harry. First, we don’t even know where he is, and second, I’m trying to keep you safe. Chasing after him is the furthest thing from keeping you safe.”

“But if we get him first…”

Tom’s face was mutinous. “No,” he said, and Harry didn’t press, knowing that regardless, he would have the upper hand because there was no way Tom would let him do anything so dangerous. “I’ll take care of him by myself, Harry.”

“Then who’s going to protect you?” he argued and watched as Tom raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, fine,” said Harry, unable to stop the laughter, “you’re right. That was a stupid question.”

And it was, the wand Tom had made combat virtually impossible against him. Tom would never lose in a duel with it. Of course, it was only combat magic, and the wand was finicky about what it considered combat, but it didn’t matter. Harry was sure that Tom would make good on his word.

“Right,” said Tom, but he didn’t look angry so Harry didn’t fret over it. Besides, even if Harry was sure Tom could hold his own against Voldemort, it didn’t matter because there was no way Harry would let him fight alone. And Voldemort was after _him_. What kind of friend would he be if let Tom take down Voldemort by himself?

Tom looked tired, but relieved and Harry knew he could ask more questions, but it was nearing dinnertime and going out to get dinner together sounded like the perfect end to the day. When he suggested it, Tom let out an almost inaudible sigh of relief before suggesting Harry’s favorite restaurant as an unspoken apology.

Harry took it for what it was and put thoughts of their earlier conversation out of his head as he went to his room to go change.

Except one thought wouldn’t leave him. Tom had said he was the future Master of Death; judging by what Tom had said, supposedly Harry would have powers over something so omnipotent that it could send Tom to a different world.

What would happen if he tried to summon Death?

But he knew better to keep Tom waiting, so instead of dwelling on it, he grabbed his coat.

* * *

Tom nearly fell out of his bed. Harry never woke up earlier than him, but maybe the talk last night had made Harry unable to sleep fitfully. That had to be why Harry just shouted for him at such an ungodly hour.

He had known the day had been coming since he realized he couldn’t lie to Harry. It didn’t matter that Harry was kind and never pressed for answers because eventually, there would be no way to lie about why he had gone and taken Harry in. No way to lie about how he knew things he shouldn’t or why his magic just didn’t work.

He would eventually have to explain everything to Harry. And he had. And to his surprise, Harry hadn’t blown up at him. Sometimes, he worried that he had raised Harry to be _too_ trusting, that he was taking advantage of Harry’s kindness. But then again, it was better than the alternative because Tom wouldn’t know what to do if Harry didn’t want him by his side anymore. Tom couldn’t keep Harry safe if Harry hated him.

He ignored the fact that Harry hating him would hurt far more than the most reasonable explanation and instead reached for his silk robe. He slid it on before padding over to Harry’s bedroom and then stopped in his tracks.

There was someone there he only dreamed about for the past three years. He never forgot Hel’s face or the way his long, black ponytail hung down to his back. Or the way his eyes gleamed just as Tom’s did in the mirror, a sign that the both of them were connected.

He seemed nothing like how Tom had seen him last: stern and bored with the world. Instead, Hel seemed excited, pawing all over Harry’s hair like a kid. He wasn’t saying anything as he did so, and Harry was bearing it with good grace, despite the way he was looking over at Tom as if pleading for his help. 

Hel noticed him approaching and looked up, his red eyes as piercing as ever and making Tom unable to move once again. He still remembered the fear that had overwhelmed him the last time he saw Hel so despite knowing he should be safe – after all, Harry was right here and Tom had done _nothing_ to harm him – he felt irrationally terrified.

“Tom!” said Hel, and the smile was blinding. It looked so out of place that Tom couldn’t move as Hel approached him, leaving Harry still sitting on the bed, hair mussed up and sticking out in strange directions. 

“Uh,” he said, startled, and suddenly Hel was holding his hands, his eyes shining just as bright as his smile. This couldn’t possibly be Death? As in the one that had given him a wand that straight up annihilated his opponents and the one who ferried dead souls to the afterlife and whose true form was actually a skeleton…

“You did it!” he continued, shaking Tom’s hands up and down in his excitement.

“I did,” he said, even though he was totally confused on what was making Hel so excited. Could it possibly be that he finished his quest already? There was no way – he hadn’t even gotten Harry the Deathly Hallows yet!

“Look!” Hel said, and in his excitement, he pointed at Harry who was still watching in shock. “Go on, Harry, _stand_!”

Harry followed orders even though he was probably just as confused as Tom. Hel let go of Tom’s hands, approaching Harry once again and placing his hands on Harry’s shoulders.

“You’re tall,” he said, voice shaky, “and you’re only still so young. You’ll grow even taller.” Harry was staring slack-jawed at Hel now, and Hel didn’t seem to notice, instead turning to Tom and giving him a thumbs up. Tom nodded back in acknowledgement, finally putting the pieces together. Hel must had known that Harry would be mistreated by the Dursleys. In the original timeline, Harry would had grown up malnourished and inside of the cupboard until _eleven_. He must had been shorter than he was now, and it seemed as if that was what making Hel so emotional.

He wondered what kind of horrible life Hel’s Harry had and deep inside, some part of him ached at the thought. All he had to chase away the thought was that _his_ Harry would never experience such misfortune, even if Tom had committed a major blunder just yesterday by letting both of their identities slip.

“I’ve been trying to find a way to contact you since forever,” he said, and Hel turned to face him. 

“You’re supposed to be smarter than this,” he said, and Tom scowled. If this thing didn’t have the power to kill him, Tom would fight back, but as it was…

“If you just told me how earlier then you could’ve helped me raise Harry.”

Hel made a face at him. “But that’s _your_ job.”

“I didn’t realize I was a job,” said Harry, but it was so quiet and under his breath that Hel didn’t even acknowledge him, his eyes still locked onto Tom.

“Why do you think you can’t lie to Harry?” asked Hel, crossing his arms in annoyance. “I made it so you had to tell him about me.”

“And you thought that I could just tell an eight-year-old about Death? When I had my hands full teaching Harry about magic?”

Hel was quiet, his mouth stubborn. “He wouldn’t have been scared. He’s _Harry_. He’s my Master and definitely not afraid of everything.”

“A Gryffindor through and through,” said Tom, annoyed. He had his suspicions while he had been raising Harry but to have them confirmed was another thing. He should’ve known he was raising a Gryffindor as soon as Harry went with him after knowing him for less than a day.

“Yes,” said Hel. “He was a Gryffindor in my time.”

“And he will be again,” sighed Tom. “I’m just happy I’m not going to Hogwarts so I won’t have to join him in that house.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Hel. “Of course you’re going to Hogwarts. You can’t leave him alone there; he’ll go through trauma again if you aren’t there to help him.”

Harry had been quiet while Hel and he talked, looking confused most of the time. But as soon as the words left Hel’s mouth, Harry was nodding furiously. Tom leveled him an unimpressed look, knowing fully well how desperately Harry wanted him to go to Hogwarts.

“I don’t have magic, remember?” he said, instead.

“This is why you had to contact me,” huffed Hel. “To get access to your magic back, you have to take your soul back from Harry.”

“Yeah!” said Harry, backing Hel up on anything if it meant he could get Tom back into Hogwarts with him. “Wait what?” continued Harry, finally registering the words. “Tom’s soul is in me?”

“Voldemort’s soul,” Hel clarified. “It’s been in you since he gave you that scar.”

“It’s a horcrux,” said Tom, catching on. “I thought it was supposed to be an object.”

“Well, yes,” said Hel, scowling. “Whoever came up with this stupid horcrux thing is so _deranged_ I can’t even begin to…” he trailed off in his anger, and then he sighed. “Anyway, even though I created your body, having it accept your soul, no matter how fragmented, will allow it to become yourself again. Which will give you access to magic.”

It sounded amazing to have access to his magic again, but he couldn’t imagine that it would be that easy. His eyes drifted to Harry. “Would it hurt Harry?”

“Of course not,” said Hel, but there was an undercurrent of something in his voice that made Tom pause. That was glee. Hel was giddy about Tom being worried about Harry and the thought made Tom raise an eyebrow because for an all-knowing entity, Hel was being childish. Of course he was worried about Harry. Harry’s life was tied to his.

He didn’t remark on it though; he didn’t think it was worth telling Hel his thoughts because Hel looked like he was a nightmare to argue with. It was much easier to agree than to not agree after all this was going to give him his _magic_ back.

“So what do we have to do?” he asked, and Hel rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

“Just leave it all up to me.”

Tom opened his mouth to remark on how bad of an idea that sounded like when his vision started getting spotty. He stumbled and then Hel was there, and that was the last thing he remembered.

* * *

The ritual took the better part of the day. When Tom finally woke up, the sun was already setting and it looked like Harry had been crying.

He sat up as best he could, nearly passing out from the rush of doing so. Harry yelped in shock, and then Harry was holding him up, burying his face into Tom’s chest. “I thought you died!” cried Harry, and Tom raised his hand weakly, patting Harry the best he could in the awkward position Harry was holding him in.

“What happened?” he asked, and Harry finally pulled away, his tear-streaked face a sight to see. He frowned. “Wasn’t Hel here? You do know he’s actually Death, right? I wasn’t in danger.”

“But you were _screaming,_ ” said Harry, with feeling. “And then when it all ended, your pulse was – it was shaky and I couldn’t hear it and and…”

“Harry!” said Tom, and he didn’t want to snap, but hated seeing Harry in tears. He swore he was going to get Hel back the next time he saw him. “Where is he now even?”

“He couldn’t stay for long,” said Harry, his voice still hoarse from crying. “He said he has responsibilities and can only visit every now and then. Whenever I call for him.” He made a face, as if promising to himself to never call on him just because he had hurt Tom.

Tom’s heart felt full, which he was definitely ignoring, and he sat up all the way, even with Harry still loathe to let him go. “Do you still have my wand?”

Harry nodded, picking it up from where they had left it and putting it in Tom’s hand. He still didn’t let go of Tom though, and Tom didn’t complain, knowing Harry was still trying to calm down.

“ _Lumos_ ,” he whispered, and to his delight, the tip of his wand lit up. It had been so _long_ since he could access his magic that he felt a thrill go through him and uncharacteristically, he turned to Harry, unable to contain his smile.

Harry looked just as excited. “You can go to Hogwarts with me now! We’ll be Gryffindors together!”

He nodded, and then scowled as he realized what Harry said. “I’m not going to be a Gryffindor, Harry.”

“But then we’ll be apart,” said Harry, his green eyes shining still from how much he cried earlier, and Tom hastily looked away, already knowing how this was going to end. Harry had an unfortunate tactic to make him give in, something he’s honed over the years, and Tom was _not_ going to fall for it this time.

Because there was no way he was going to be in Gryffindor.

No way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PHEW. This was hard to write, I just wanted to portray their relationship as healthily as possible. Please let me know if it makes sense, I think I rewrote this like five times now. As always, thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Also you guys help me decide, I'm putting them both in hufflepuff! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave constructive criticism if you want. Since i'll be writing this hopefully fast, I may overlook some stuff and go back and change it (i'll make a note of any edits) so please let me know in the comments of any mistakes.


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